


a light (let it guide me home)

by rebelliousenjolras



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Avengers Endgame, Avengers Family, Dad!Tony, F/M, Hurt, Iron Dad, Parent Tony Stark, Post-snap, Soft Tony, Tony Stark Has A Heart, endgame spoilers, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelliousenjolras/pseuds/rebelliousenjolras
Summary: Of letting go, of love, of loss, of saving the world, one last time.





	a light (let it guide me home)

A little blue light, keeping her company at night. Glowing in the darkness, illuminating half of his face as he slept, for the first time in years looking truly at peace. By the glow of that little blue light she traced her fingers across his cheek, caressing the hollows of his cheekbones and the soft stubble that covered his skin. He would sleep through it all, and she didn’t tell him how much comfort that light brought her, not until it seemed like she might not get another chance to. How when the other side of the bed was empty, five years later, she couldn’t sleep without the light. His light. 

And she would never be able to tell him how she bought a night light that shone blue in the darkness in an attempt to fill the vacant hole he left behind. How when she opened her eyes after four hours of restless tossing and turning, the sight of that light sent her heart racing for one wild, shattering moment until she realized her nightmare of a life wasn’t just a dream.

The next morning, that night light was shattered into a hundred pieces, shards littered across the bedroom floor. She left them there for weeks, a painful reminder that nothing could fill the vacancy. Nothing could bring her little blue light back. 

***

“Good morning, gorgeous,” a hand pushed her hair out of her eyes, and a pair of lips pressed against her forehead. “If I remember correctly, a certain beautiful, strong, intelligent, fiercely sexy--”

She laughed, lightly pushing Tony away as she sat up, pulling the silken sheet up to cover her chest. Tony was sprawled next to her on the bed, and it was apparent he’d already dressed for the day, save for the pair of fuzzy, Christmas-themed socks she’d gifted him the year before on his feet. One glance outside of the window at the sun, barely peeking out over the edge of the shimmering waters of the lake, told her it was no later than six in the morning. 

“What do you want, Stark?” She stretched lazily, letting the sheet slip down to her waist and clocking the way Tony’s eyes followed its movement. “You don’t use that kind of language just to tell me ‘good morning.’” 

Tony sat up, and then his arms were around her bare shoulders as he pulled her against him. She sat on her knees, a head taller than him in a refreshing change of pace, sheet completely abandoned in a crumpled heap behind her. His lips found their way to her collarbone, and she gasped at the sudden contact, a shiver running through her body. 

“Do I not normally?” He hummed against her skin, the vibrations causing her hands to clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt. “My apologies, Mrs. Stark. I’ll make it a habit from now one, to wake you up telling you every reason why I love you, if you make me one promise.”

She cocked a brow, hand capturing his chin as she forced his eyes to meet hers. “And that is?”

He mirrored her head tilt, hands gripping her bare waist and his smile devilish. “Promise me you’ll never, and I mean ever, wear even a scrap of clothing again.”

Again, she laughed, and as the first rays of sun broke over the water she kissed him, dragging his body across hers as she laid back on the bed. His warmth enveloped her, and for several long moments she lost herself in him, letting out little sighs and gasps as his lips found all the right places. Reluctantly, though, she pulled away, a rueful smile on her face.

“We have approximately an hour before our little monster comes bounding in here demanding her morning tea time with Daddy and French toast sticks for breakfast. Is this how you want to spend it?” She pulled her hair up into a ponytail as she spoke, reaching for one of Tony’s shirts where he’d tossed it on the floor the night before. 

He groaned, pressing one last kiss to her temple before he rose to his feet in one fluid movement. “As much as I’d like to spend the entire day doing nothing but ravishing you right here in this bed, I was hoping for some of those French toast sticks, too.”

Though it took much convincing on her behalf and warding off Tony’s advances, she finally managed to dress and follow Tony down the stairs into their kitchen. He’d already laid out all of the ingredients, tea towel slung over his shoulder as he pulled a skillet out from a cabinet. In that moment, she was sure she’d never been more in love with him. 

“What time did you put her to bed last night? She’s still totally out,” she commented, turning on the stove as she began cracking eggs into a bowel. She’d walked by their daughter’s bedroom, and the child had still been fast asleep, unusual for this time of morning. 

Tony grinned, looking like a child who’d been caught sneaking a piece of candy. She turned to face him fully, brow cocked, and it was only seconds before her broke. 

“I was still up working on some things when she got up around midnight last night, and she wanted to eat an ice cream sandwich, how could I say no? I’m telling you, that kid’s got some negotiating skills, when Pep’s ready to step down I foresee a new head of Stark Industries--” 

She snorted and lightly smacked Tony with a dishcloth. “Earth’s Mightiest Defender, taken down by a wheeling and dealing five year old.”

They both stiffened as her word’s sunk in. It was sometimes easy, in a post-snap world, to forget what had led them to this cabin by the lake. Tony’s sudden retirement hadn’t been planned; it had been forced upon him when he returned to Earth, half-dead and utterly defeated. His voice when he told her, “I lost the kid” was so broken that the thought of it alone could send her into a downward spiral of panic. In these days, they didn’t talk about it, trying to be the best version of themselves for the little girl who was sleeping soundly upstairs. 

“Hey, don’t look like that,” Tony said, hands coming around to grasp her waist as he pulled her to him. “We’re here, and we’ve got the toughest daughter in the entire universe, and that’s all that matters. Me, you, her. Right here, right now.”

She pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips, all attempts at cooking momentarily forgotten. Her arms came up to twine around his neck and he let out a little sigh against her lips, hands grabbing at her ass. He heaved her up onto the counter, and she pressed herself against him, a moan slipping through her teeth as she ground her hips against his--

“Mommy, is it breakfast time?”

She and Tony sprang apart guiltily, her hands coming up automatically to smooth over her hair as Tony just grinned at her ruefully. She slipped off the kitchen counter and turned her attention to the little girl, their Morgan, hovering at the foot of the stairs, still wrapped in the fluffy blanket from her bed. 

“Daddy and I are making breakfast together this morning,” she said brightly, grabbing a utensil at random and holding it up. “Daddy was just… Showing me what to do.”

Tony snorted quietly and moved around her to scoop their daughter into his arms, pressing little kisses all over her face. She laughed gleefully and squirmed, blanket sliding off her shoulders and falling in a crumpled heap to the ground. 

“Actually,” Tony began, and then he threw Morgan over his shoulder as she shrieked. He deposited her on the counter. “We’re going to make breakfast this morning while Mommy takes a well-deserved break. How about that? And if you work extra hard, I might sneak you a couple chocolate chip pancakes too.”

“With whipped cream?” Morgan arched a brow, little arms folded across her chest seriously. 

“You’ve got a deal, kid.” Tony leaned down to kiss Morgan’s cheek, and over the top of her head grinned at his wife. 

“You’re quite the deal cutter, Mr. Stark,” she said dryly. “I take back what I said earlier; you better hope she doesn’t get into one of your board rooms, because she’ll mop the floor with you.”

The grin splitting across Tony’s face was nothing short of earth-shattering, filled with a joy and peace she’d once thought impossible for him to have. Morgan’s hand was on his chest, absently tracing over the outline of his Arc Reactor as she often did. On nights when the girl woke up with a nightmare, she’d call out for Tony, and he’d stay with her, her night light and her forever best friend, until she drifted back off to sleep.

Though she’d never admit it, Tony was her night light as well, a constant comforting presence in the devastating world they lived in. She pushed aside the morbid thoughts, and instead chose to focus on the way Tony’s eyes, filled with adoration, were trained on their little miracle, the bit of sunshine in what had once seemed an eternal darkness. So, she draped herself across the sofa, closing her eyes and relaxing to the sounds of Tony’s sarcastic quips and Morgan’s raucous giggles until the scent of chocolate chip pancakes and french toast sticks wafted through the air. 

***

Hours later, breakfast devoured and dishes washed, she and Tony were sat on the sofa, his head in her lap as her fingers carded through his hair. Morgan was sitting on the ground in front of them, playing with her vast array of dolls. Much to their glee, the scenario Morgan seemed to have concocted was that of a business-savvy Barbie doll, dressed in a power suit ordering around a group full of men on the construction of her massive pink dollhouse.

They stayed silent, holding back laughter as Morgan’s head Barbie set a deadline of two minutes for the construction of a pool. Just as the climactic argument was coming to a close, and the Barbie moments away from claiming victory, the doorbell rang. She jumped to her feet instantly, expecting it to be Happy bringing a weekly report or perhaps the friendly neighbors who owned the cabin a few miles away. 

Instead, she was met with three faces she hadn’t seen in a very long time. 

“It’s been a while,” Steve Rogers was standing on their front porch, Natasha Romanoff and Scott Lang flanking him on either side. “Is Tony here?”

“Yeah, Tony’s here,” Tony was at her shoulder in an instant, Morgan instinctively, protectively behind him. “What’s going on, Cap?”

Steve’s gaze shifted from the two and then to Morgan, sensing the obvious tension in the air. Natasha must have noticed it as well, because she stepped forward, arms wrapping around the other woman’s shoulders as she pulled her into an embrace. 

“It’s good to see you,” Natasha murmured, and then her eyes fell to Morgan, peering out from behind Tony’s back, never one to shy away from strangers. “Wow. I haven’t seen her since she was a baby.”

She let out an internal sigh of relief and thanked the gods for Natasha’s tact. A subject of normality, something she could grasp onto. She gently pulled Morgan forward, a tight smile on her lips as she tried--and most likely failed--to pretend like this was normal, that they were all simply just friends who hadn’t seen each other in far too long. 

“This is Morgan. Morgan, meet Natasha, Steve, and Scott--” and then she gasped aloud, heart beating wildly as she connected the dots and realized just how long it had been since she’d seen Scott Lang. “Scott? How are you--? Are they--?”

For one wild, fleeting second hope soared in her chest that somehow, impossibly, Thano’s horrific deed had been undone. It only took a shake of the head from Steve to dash any dreams she had of that being true. 

“That’s exactly what we’re here to talk about. We think we have a way to do it, Tony. To bring them back.” Steve shifted, and she could tell how impatient he was to begin setting his plan in motion. 

A thrill of fear went through her as she thought back to the last battle, receiving the news that Tony wouldn’t be coming home. Her grip on Morgan’s shoulders tightened fractionally, a physical reminder of everything they had to lose. Selfishly, so selfishly, a part of her wished she hadn’t answered the door. 

“Come in,” she held the door open, ignoring the warning look Tony aimed at her. “Like you said, Steve, it’s been a while. We’d love a chance to catch up.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tony mumbled, looking too gleeful when Steve didn’t budge from his position on the porch. 

“I’d really like to talk about this with you privately, Tony.” Steve said firmly.

“No can do, Cap. I’ve got an eleven o’clock meeting scheduled with Morg and a Mr. Fuzzy Teddy Bear that I can’t miss. This has been fun and all, thanks for stopping by, but we’ve really got to go--” Tony began edging the door shut as he spoke.   

She rolled her eyes then, holding out a hand to stop the door from closing. She’d somehow forgotten just how stubborn the two men could be when in a room together. “Like I said, come inside and we’ll have lunch and we can talk about everything then.” Steve looked poised to argue, and you simply arched a brow at him. “Inside, Rogers. Now.”

Steve, seeing the stubborn glint in her eye that he’d grown to fear over the years, finally complied, shouldering past her into the kitchen. Natasha followed, and was immediately taken by the hand by Morgan and dragged over to her setup of dolls. Scott was last, and he pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek as he went by. 

As she finally let the door shut, Tony leaned forward, jaw set. “I don’t like this at all.” He reaffirmed his displeasure at what she’d done, eyes roving over her face.

She shook her head, smiling ruefully. “We’ve spent five years exiling ourselves from the world, Tony. Our world. It’s time we step back in, if not for our sake, for hers.”

And both of them looked toward their daughter, who was sat on the floor by Natasha, listening raptly as Natasha demonstrated how to make the Barbies throw a mean left hook. Morgan smiled brightly and copied the action, using CEO Barbie as a tool to execute a roundhouse kick to one of the male dolls. 

Tony sighed in defeat. “You’re right, again. I just… We’ve got it good here, sweetheart. I can’t help but think this is the only shot we’re going to have.”

“And this could be the only shot you all have to bring them back,” she reminded him, lips brushing against his cheek. “At least hear him out before you make a decision, okay? Besides, I think they’re all a little in love with Morg, you’re not getting them out of here anytime soon.”

Scott and Steve had joined Natasha and Morgan by the fireplace, hovering behind them with very different expressions. Scott’s was a little wistful, and perhaps a little sad, while Steve’s was pure wonderment. Regardless of what she saw on their faces, though, she knew they understood why Tony was so reluctant to step back into battle. He wasn’t just playing with his own life anymore. 

And so she prepared lunch as Steve, Natasha, and Scott quietly talked shop, having detached themselves--albeit regretfully--from Morgan. She strained her ears to listen as they gave Tony their pitch, though Tony would fill her in the second they were gone, and she caught the gist of it. Time travel. Actual, real life, just like the movies, time travel. The catch was, there was no way they could do it without Tony’s help. 

He didn’t give them an answer, instead, in very typical fashion, tabling the discussion until after lunch was over. Tony plated Morgan’s food for her, slipping her an extra serving of her favorite blueberry pie when no one was looking. It hurt her heart every time she looked at them, knowing what could happen next. Knowing Tony Stark like no one else, sure of where his heart lay and what his moral compass would command he do.

“Why are you so tall?” Morgan asked, oblivious to the heaviness of the air pressing down on the room. She was addressing Steve, who still seemed half in awe of, half frightened of the five year old.  

“Well, I, uh,” Steve looked around helplessly, and upon finding no assistance, leaned down so he and Morgan were eye-to-eye. “I didn’t used to be. In fact, I was about as big as you,” and he poked Morgan in the side, eliciting a giggle from the girl. “But I had to grow to become the person I’m supposed to be. Just like your mom has the warmth to give the best hugs or your dad has the brain to solve any problem.”

Her heart warmed as Morgan nodded seriously, apparently deeming the answer acceptable. “I want to be big, too,” she announced, and perhaps the wonderment Steve felt wasn’t one-sided. “And one day I’ll be big enough to protect the whole world.”

Tony’s eyes were on her and they shared a long look that conveyed words that they both couldn’t quite speak. She’d fallen in love with him all those years ago, and continued to love him through every battle and war. When they were separated by a literal galaxy. She’d love him still through this next fight, and she’d never regret a second of it. 

“Spoken like a true Stark,” Natasha murmured, lips twitching into a smile, and the heavy silence finally seemed to dissipate just a little bit.

***

Scott and Natasha, it seemed, played the role of aunt and uncle well. They were running about the yard with Morgan, throwing play punches and pretending to collapse once she caught them. Tony participated only when Morgan approached him, acting the part as he fell to his knees and gave a dramatic speech on her heroism and strength. The second her attention was averted, though, the grin dropped, and he had that faraway look in his eyes that meant a long night of planning and working was ahead. 

Steve, though, was sat off by himself, on a bench that faced the open waters of the lake. He’d played with Morgan for a bit, carrying her on his shoulders as they teamed up against Scott. She’d simply watched the games, a little bit heartbroken that Morgan hadn’t grown up knowing these people as aunts and uncles from birth. But it was what they’d needed, at the time. A chance to move on, to live. 

She joined Steve on the bench, resting her head on her chin as she gazed out at the lake. The sun was setting, casting a pinkish tinge to the water. She glanced at Steve, noting the tiredness mixed with determination in his eyes. She couldn’t recall the last time he’d looked so hopeful, but then again, it had been years since she’d seen him face-to-face. 

“Banner called me. They’ve got Thor on board. They’ll be back by tomorrow morning.” Steve said quietly, though they were in no danger of being overheard. 

“You’re getting the whole band back together, huh?” She tried at humor, and Steve’s lips twitched slightly. 

“Something like that,” and then he turned to face her, and she was surprised to see the guilt written clearly on his face. “Listen, I don’t want to do this to him. If there was any other way, I wouldn’t be here right now. Without Tony, we don’t stand a chance in hell of making this work. But seeing Morgan and everything you’ve got here, I don’t--” 

She held up a finger and he immediately stopped talking. She smiled gently, one arm wrapping around Steve’s shoulders and squeezing lightly. “I know that, Steve. He does too. This is what we signed up for though, isn’t it? I don’t resent you for coming. In fact, I’ve missed you all a lot.”

Finally, a true smile broke out on Steve’s face. “I’ve missed you both. Upstate’s not quite the same without you around.”

She rested her head on Steve’s shoulder, watching as the last bit of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon, the sky stained an inky purple in its wake. “Maybe we’ll plan a trip up soon. Morgan would have a field day at the compound.”

Neither of them commented on the quiet lies in her words. They both knew the next time they’d be meeting wouldn’t be on a leisurely vacation spent catching up and reminiscing on old times. A fight for their very lives was imminent, and as the moon rose and stars began twinkling into existence, she’d almost accepted it. Almost.

***

The goodbyes had been brief, promises to meet again soon buried beneath formalities and thin smiles. Morgan had been annoyed at the loss of her three new playmates, but after Steve ruffled her hair and promised they’d see each other soon she brightened considerably. She spent the entire rest of the evening chattering on about the group until Tony lured her to bed with the promise of a story. 

Morgan snuggled beneath her blankets, Tony lounging on top of the covers beside her. He’d plucked her favorite book from the shelf, one about a female mechanic who befriended her lifelike tools to solve problems. It had been a gift on Morgan’s first birthday, after she’d seen it in a book store and remembered Tony’s time as “The Mechanic” years previously. Now, it was the story Morgan most liked to hear at night. 

She quietly slipped out of the room and padded down the hall to their bedroom, not expecting Tony to come to bed for hours, if at all. She’d fight with him in the morning, giving him that stern look she was known so well for until he sighed and went upstairs to sleep off the hours he spent working. If she knew him at all, as soon as he finished the story--Morgan usually fell asleep before then, but Tony insisted on reading it all--he’d head downstairs to the library and begin.

So, she was surprised when just minutes later the door creaked open. For half a second, she was expecting to see Morgan peeking in, but instead it was Tony, running a hand through his hair and still clutching the book in his hands. She propped herself up on an elbow, the book she’d been reading forgotten as the pages fluttered closed. 

“I figured you’d be out working all night,” she murmured, scooting over as Tony sat down on the edge of the bed. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, letting the garment land in a heap on the floor. 

“Working on what?” He replied, noncommittal and not quite meeting her gaze.

 She sat up fully, reaching out a tentative hand to touch Tony’s shoulder. This gesture seemed to finally capture his attention. She worried her bottom lip, unsure of how to proceed. When Steve had left earlier, he and Tony had exchanged words as Natasha and Scott got into the car. She’d figured they were discussing when Tony would go to meet them, or possibly the logistics of how long it would take. 

“Steve said…” She trailed off, realization dawning on her face. “You turned Steve down, didn’t you? When they were leaving?”

Tony sighed and laid down, pulling her against his chest. She complied, though she wiggled in his arms until she was facing him, brow arched as her fingers absentmindedly drummed against the arc reactor on his chest. Sensing he wasn’t budging, she tried a different tactic, changing the subject. 

“Do you remember that first night we spent together, after the New York crisis with Loki?” She said, laughing a little at the nonchalant way they discussed a literal alien invasion. In fact, after everything else they’d seen, it almost felt normal.  

Tony snorted. “Yeah, I do. You woke up in the middle of the night and forgot where you were, and you aimed for the blue light when you hit. Scared the hell out of me, too.”

“In my defense, not many men literally glow,” She teased, poking his cheek lightly. Her tone shifted, and her face grew more serious. “I look for it every night when I wake up, you know. Because if the light’s here, you’re safe beside me. But… A long time ago I stopped expecting it to be that way. I knew the risks that came with being with you. So if my light has to go away for a little while, it’s okay. I can live with that.” She finished carefully, eyes on Tony as she awaited his reaction.

“I told him I couldn’t do it. What he’s asking me for… It’s dangerous. There’s no guarantee we’d all make it back,” Tony admitted finally. 

She was quiet for a moment, considering his words. “You won’t lose her,” she said. “Putting on the suit again doesn’t make you any less of the daddy who reads her stories at night and takes her on walks at the lake. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, Tony Stark or Iron Man. You can be both.”

Tony’s grip on her tightened and he stilled as she managed to vocalize each of his internal fears. His forehead rested against her own. “And what’ll happen to you if I kick it? I grew up with a shitty father, and look how I turned out. What will she be without one at all?”

She laughed quietly, lips finding Tony’s cheek. “And you turned out how? A brilliant inventor? A loving husband? A doting father? A hero? Yeah, if Morgan turns out anything like you, I’ll be the proudest mother in the world.”

Tony kissed her. When they broke apart, she smiled at him, hands pushing gently at his chest. “Go on, Tony. I know you won’t have even a bit of peace unless you do.”

Tony’s lips turned up at the corners, the faintest smiling shining on his face. “I love you, woman.”

Even as her heart broke a little, she pulled a teasing expression onto her face, stitching herself back up as spoke. “I love you too, Tony. Now go save the world.”

***

She tried, for Morgan’s sake, to not let the panic she was feeling rise to the surface. She smoothed her expression into one of tranquility and turned to her daughter, forcing a smile onto her lips. 

“Why don’t you go color for a little bit, baby? You could draw a picture to give Daddy when he gets back from work.” She said. 

“Can I draw one for Scott, too?” Morgan asked eagerly, already sliding off the sofa. 

She’d taken a particular liking to Scott the past few days they’d been jetting back and forth between the compound and home. It was a combination of his already fatherly tendencies and the fact that he’d drop everything to pay attention to Morgan, she was sure. More than once Steve had to firmly remind him that they had more important tasks at hand than listening to Morgan tell him in great length about their drive up to the compound. However, she’d caught Steve himself falling prey to Morgan’s charms on more than one occasion.

“Of course, baby. Draw whatever you want.”

She waited until Morgan’s bedroom closed, letting out a shaky sigh and slumping against the sofa cushions. Fumbling fingers found the remote and turned on the television, where newscasters were excitedly discussing the explosion at the Avengers Compound. She felt sick at her stomach, knuckles turning white from how tightly she was clenching her fists, and she kept waiting for a call, any call, telling her that he was okay. But a small part of her knew she was waiting for something that would never arrive. 

Because even though Tony promised her he would come home to her that morning, when they’d said quiet goodbyes while Morgan slept, she’d seen the fear in his eyes just before he walked out the door, Natasha’s death still hanging over both of their heads like a black cloud. But she didn’t stop him. The world needed Iron Man, and she’d be damned if she stood in the way. And beyond that, Tony would never be truly settled until he fought in this last battle. Every evening for the last five years, just before they went to bed, he’d look at that photo of Peter Parker they kept framed in the kitchen. And every evening she strengthened her resolve just a little bit more, so when the time for him to leave came, she’d be strong enough to let him walk out the door. 

But she’d never said she wouldn’t go with him. The thought struck her suddenly, sending her jumping off the couch and scrambling to find her phone. Shaking hands dialed the familiar number, and it took only one ring for the call to be picked up. 

“How quickly can you get here?” She said, forgoing formalities as her eyes remained glued to the television. 

He didn’t have to ask what she wanted or why. She simply heard the sound of an engine growling to life, and Happy’s voice filtering through the speaker, terse and hurried. 

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” he said grimly, not asking any questions nor demanding answers of her. 

“Make it fifteen.”

She flicked off the television and slipped outside. Though Tony had tried to conceal it, Morgan was as terrible of a secret keeper as she was good a sleuth. Only minutes after Morgan found the helmet to the suit Tony had been crafting for her, hidden away in the garage, she’d come running to her, chattering excitedly about what Daddy was making. It was to the garage that she now went, pushing aside heaps of equipment and discarded projects to find the item in question. 

Tucked away in a corner, she found it. She swallowed hard. He’d even tied a bright red bow around the suit’s center, and attached to it was a little note. In his familiar untidy handwriting, he’d scrawled:

_ Because you always call me the hero, but you don’t realize you saved me a long time ago. Always yours. Tony. _

Carefully, she tucked away the note, heart breaking a little as her fingers lightly trailed across the suit. It was absolutely stunning. Plates of silver met lavender, woven throughout the machine, and she couldn’t have asked for a more incredible gift. She hoped Tony wouldn’t mind that she was testing it out a few weeks earlier than expected.

In the driveway, gravel crunched, alerting her to the arrival of Happy. She met him in the yard and led the way to the house, calling for Morgan as she lingered on the doormat. Morgan bounded down the stairs instantly, a crayon tucked behind her ear and another still held in her hand. There was a smudge of blue on her cheek. 

“Uncle Happy’s going to stay and play with you for a little while, okay?” She tried to smile, hoping Morgan wouldn’t be able to see through it. “I have to go help Daddy with something, but we’ll be home as soon as we can.”

Morgan nodded, hand reaching out to Happy. She allowed her mother to kiss her cheek and hug her a final time.

“I love you, Mommy,” Morgan said, and then she smiled a lovely, bright smile up at Happy. “Do you want to come color?”

“Of course, Morg,” Another fake smile. Happy directed his gaze back up, eyes tight and mouth set. “I’ll see you soon.”

It was a silent promise to come home soon. To not let this be the last time that they, two people brought together by Tony Stark, human witnesses to the incredible feats of heroism that made up their world, see each other.

“I’ll see you soon,” she vowed. 

The suit fit like a second skin, molding to her body perfectly as she experimentally twisted her limbs. Not for the first time, she was in awe of Tony’s genius, his attention to detail, the way he viewed the world through a series of tiny factors that contributed to a grander whole. It seemed so long ago, now, that they first met, and she watched him work in that Malibu mansion. Fifteen years had led them to this point, fifteen years of love and sacrifice and pain and joy and everything else in-between. And they’d made it through it all, bruised and battered but miraculously alive.

As the suit’s helmet closed over her face, she hoped they’d be able to swing just one more miracle.   

***

When she touched down in the fields surrounding the wreckage of the compound, her heart leapt into her throat. First she saw Rhodey, hovering in the air and shooting rounds into a dense pack of creatures. And there was Carol, facing off against a hoard of Thanos’ alien disciples single-handedly. She scanned the battlefield, searching desperately for a flash of red and gold, but something else stopped her in her tracks entirely. 

Steve Rogers held half a shield, ripped straight down the middle, and the look on his face was grim and resigned. Wherever fate was leading them on this battlefield, he had accepted it. And so she steeled herself, hoping Morgan would someday understand what her parents had sacrificed themselves for. No longer wishing for a miracle, her repulsors began charging, and she readied to step into the battle. 

And then there was movement to her right, and Tony was there, mask coming away from his face. She did the same and threw her arms around his neck, metal clashing on metal.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He contradicted his own words by tightening his grip on her. “Go home to Morgan, sweetheart. We’re not all--”

“We’re not all making it out of this one, yeah, I know,” she finished for him impatiently with a rueful shake of her head. “I’m staying. You’ve fought battle after battle, year after year, without me. This time, wherever you go, Stark, I’m following.”

Tony’s argument was stalled as the portals began appearing. Shimmering a bright gold, they covered the battlefield, and she held out a hand, fingers brushing against the warm sparks. It only took seconds for the realization of what was happening to settle in. A smile found its way onto her lips as Stephen Strange stepped through, leading the pack. No more than a second later they were surrounded, warriors from each of their lives standing behind them as they faced down the monstrous Titan that stole everything.

There was no time for reunions. They would come later, if by some miracle that now didn’t seem too impossible they made it through this alive. Steve, standing at the forefront of the group, raised his broken shield into the air. 

“Avengers,” a pause. A breath. Tony’s hand found hers, fingers fumbling, and he squeezed just once. “Assemble!” 

And it began. She was in the air, Tony flying at her side as they took on the enemy from above, shooting down every hideous creature in their line of vision. She felt a fierce pleasure as for the first time in her life, she fought alongside her husband, each monster she took down forming a path to a brighter future, one where her daughter would be safe and her husband at peace. 

“I’m heading over to Cap!” Tony called, and it was only due to the comm system in the suits that she was able to hear him over the gunfire and war cries.

She caught one last glimpse of that blue light, shining against a blood red sky, flames dotting the ground like vicious strokes of red paint, before he disappeared into the madness. She tore back into the fight with a vengeance, making a beeline for where Peter Parker was fighting alone, several dog-like creatures circling him. 

“Stay. Away. From. Him,” she hissed, throwing one of the creatures off of Peter and kicking a second. 

For just a moment, there was peace on their little plane of the field. Her mask lifted just as Peter began speaking, acting totally unphased at the fact he’d just been neck-deep in a pile of alien-dog hybrids. 

“Mrs. Stark! How are you? I saw Mr. Stark a few minutes ago but he didn’t say whether or not you got dusted, but did you see the portal things? They were all glowy and--”

And she had no way of knowing it, but the way she pulled Peter to him, arms holding him tightly, was exactly what Tony had done just minutes prior. Peter didn’t comment on it either, instead savoring the moment of quiet that ended all too soon. 

“We missed you, kid,” she said thickly. “Try to keep yourself out of trouble.”

Peter laughed at that, looking around them. “Mrs. Stark, I think it’s a little late for that.” Peter said, grinning at her. 

When she left him a few minutes later in the capable hands of Carol, her heart was just a little bit lighter. Seeing Peter, alive and smiling, made every bit of suffering they’d endured the last five years worth it. Her joy didn’t last long, though. She’d finally spotted Tony, fighting just a few feet away from Thanos. His eyes weren’t on the Titan, though. Stephen Strange was looking at him, and as she watched, he held up one finger. 

And in that moment, her heart finally shattered, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the pieces had pierced her chest, tearing a massive hole in her, spilling out onto the dirt and ground into a fine dust under the feet of the fighters. A scream wrenched itself from her lips, and through a haze of tears she flew across the field as his fingers came together. 

She couldn’t stop him. She wasn’t even planning on trying. She just wanted to be there, so when he fell, his head didn’t land amongst the gore and debris. So she could tell him everything would be alright. That she wasn’t angry or scared. 

And that’s exactly what she did. By the time her feet touched the ground they’d already leaned him up against a large hunk of concrete, and it took a great amount of work for his eyes to focus on her. Her hands found his face, fingers splaying across his cheekbones like she’d done so many times before, in the cover of darkness as he dreamed. His hand, the one not ravaged by the effects of the gauntlet, slowly lifted to rest on her back as he’d done a million times when the world became too much and she couldn’t find the air to breathe. 

And somehow, she found the strength to speak, and maybe that was the miracle she’d been searching for. 

“Hey, baby, we’re going to be okay,” she said, half-sobbing as a small, peaceful smile shaped on his lips. “She’s going to be okay. You can rest now.”

A breath. A silent cry. A soul fading away. A body slumping. That little blue light, her safe landing place, flickered one last time. Darkness fell. 

***

Morgan hadn’t cried. It was to be expected; she was a child, and to her, it simply didn’t make sense that Daddy wasn’t there. After she’d finally found the courage to tell Morgan, explaining to her that Daddy was resting amongst the stars, she’d simply stared at her mother with big eyes, and said one thing:

“But I drew him a picture.”

Because her daddy had been there for every moment, exclaiming with each crayon doodle and glue art that she was the next Picasso. And now, he wasn’t coming to see what she’d drawn for him. She couldn’t understand it fully, why he wasn’t sitting on the sofa beside her and asking questions about each color she chose. She couldn’t understand why Mommy’s eyes were always red and her voice quiet. She couldn’t understand why Daddy said the same words over and over when Uncle Happy pressed the button on Daddy’s helmet. Why, even when she left the drawing on the coffee table, carefully wedged underneath the edge of the red and gold helmet, he still didn’t come up to her room and tell her what he thought of it. 

Now, the picture Morgan had drawn for her daddy hung on the wall in a simple black frame. In the drawing, the sun was shining, and Tony held his daughter on her shoulders, and her mother held her hand. They were smiling, and it was now a relic, a memory from a time before Morgan knew what it was like to wear a black dress and watch her mother cry and her father float away from her and realize that this time, her superhero wasn’t coming back.

“Did I ever tell you what Tony said after he met you?” Rhodey’s voice broke through the pounding in her head, and she tore her eyes away from her daughter. 

Morgan was sitting on the front porch, tucked under Happy’s arm, talking quietly as she swung her legs beneath her, still too small to reach the ground. Her body felt heavy as she turned to Rhodey, fingers she hadn’t even realized she was digging into her palms finding their way into her pockets. Blood welled out of the crescent-shaped marks, but she didn’t notice. Even Rhodey, standing just a foot away from her, seemed distant, like she was trapped at the bottom of the ocean and he was floating at the surface.

She realized a second too late that he was expecting an answer. 

“No,” her voice cracked. She tried again, because all she could do at this point was try. “No, you haven’t.”

“As soon as you walked out that door, he looked at me, and I swear, I’ve never seen a guy more in love. And he just pointed at the door, and he said, ‘She’s either going to marry me or kill me, and I’m planning on figuring out which one it is.’” Rhodey laughed at the memory, and it sounded only a little off-kilter. 

A ghost of a smile, wispy and fragile, tugged at her lips, but she didn’t have the strength to see it through. Rhodey seemed to understand, though, reaching out and gently squeezing her shoulder before starting up the hill to the house. She stayed where she was, barely noticing her friends as they came up to her, sharing stories and tears with her. She simply stared out at the water as the sun slowly disappeared and night fell. Finally alone, she allowed herself to cry, tears flowing down her cheeks under the cover of darkness. She was reminded of a moment from years before in that exact spot, just after they’d found out she was pregnant with Morgan, mere months after the snap. 

***

_ “It’s beautiful, Tony,” she murmured, hands unconsciously cradling the almost-nonexistent curve of her stomach.  _

_ Tony’s head rested on top of hers as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hands mirroring her own. She felt him smile and closed her eyes as the sun winked out of the sky, giving way to the millions of little stars lighting the night.  _

_ “It’s all for you,” Tony said, and for the first time since he stepped off that ship, malnourished and at death’s door, he sounded almost whole again. “Every bit of it. See all those stars up there? They’re yours. And hers.” _

_ Her eyes flew open as she laughed, turning and pressing a kiss to Tony’s lips.  _

_ “We don’t know that baby Stark is a she yet,” she teased, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. _

_ His lips found her neck, grip on her hips tightening as he nipped at her earlobe. “Trust me, sweetheart, she’s a girl, and she’s going to be just as pretty as her mother.” _

_ “You’re just flattering me, Stark,” she said, a little breathless as Tony’s lips made their way down her collarbone. “She’s going to look just like you, and I’ll be absolutely furious.” _

_ “If she doesn’t have your eyes, I’m demanding a refund.” _

_ Her reply was lost to the wind and darkness as she gave a little gasp, arching against him. Lips trailing down lower, fingers undoing the buttons on her blouse. No one but them in the world, a faint blue light capturing the precious space between them. Quiet sighs as the water lapped at the edges of the lake. A miracle peace that wouldn’t last as long as it should, but longer than they could have possibly hoped. _

***

A little blue light, keeping her company at night, now distinguished. It used to glow in the darkness, illuminated half of his face as he slept, but didn’t rest, at peace but still fighting. By the glow of that little light she would trace her fingers across his cheek, caressing the hollows of his cheekbones and the soft stubble that covered his skin because a part of her always knew their days together were numbered. He would sleep through it all, and she only told him once how much comfort that light brought her. Now, the other side of the bed was empty in one way and full in another, as a little girl who looked just like her father, save for the eyes that belonged to her mother, slept curled into her side. 

She would lie awake, because she couldn’t sleep without the light. His light. But she would try, for the sake of that little girl, to remember why they fought and what for. Some days, it was easier, and she would make it through the evening without shaking so hard that coffee spilled over the sides of her mug onto the floor, and on others the sight of one of his shirts would send her to her knees, sobbing into the garment that his scent still clung to. 

It would never be easy. But Happy, always a phone call away lessened the pain. And Rhodey was there, ready to pick up the pieces when she fell. Scott spent hours with Morgan, listening to every story she told. Even Steve, hands now withered with age, pent hours holding her own hand as they sat on the sofa, sharing in her grief. 

For the first time since the funeral, her eyes settled upon Morgan’s drawing, framed and hanging above the fireplace. In her rendering of Tony, he towered above them, impossibly large, and the arc reactor on his chest was a bright blue. Even though Morgan still didn’t fully understand what her father’s job was, she’d known he was a hero, and the drawing reflected that. Iron Man, her daddy, was a hero even on pen and paper.  

But for the first time, seeing the framed drawing didn’t send her into fits of sobs, muffled into her fingers so Morgan wouldn’t hear. She simply slipped outside, settling onto the porch steps as she gazed out at the lake. The stars were reflected in the water, shimmering like little lights in the ripples. Tony’s voice, strong and clear and hopeful, echoed in her ears. 

_ “See all those stars up there? They’re yours.” _

And as her eyes lifted to the sky, she swore a streak of blue flashed through the night, twisting in and out of the stars in its path. A beacon of hope, a little piece of him, guiding her home.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment with your favorite part! Love you all 3000. -Sarah


End file.
